As we begin walking forward, toward the flags, I keep my eyes down, looking for fissures, though I know all too well they won’t be visible until it’s too late. We hear a thundering crack—more vibration than noise—and I grab on to Kate’s arm again as I lower myself to my knees, tugging her with me.
A section of rope lands in front of us. I look up and see Nigel and Amy just ahead.
“The ice is no longer stable,” I say to Kate, leaning forward to retrieve the rope. “Just to be safe, we’ll need to spread out our weight until we get to a better spot.”
I tie the rope around Kate’s middle, high, just under her breasts. “We have to lie flat and crawl, but Nigel will be tugging you in a bit, too. Lie as flat as you can.”
“I’m so sorry,” she says. “I didn’t mean to cause all this trouble.”
“We need to hurry,” I tell her, then lie down flat in the snow, to show her how it’s done. “Propel yourself forward with your elbows and knees. When Nigel says it’s okay, you can stand. I’ll be right behind you. Go on.”
She flattens her own body on the ice and begins to inch forward, slowly and awkwardly, looking up every so often as if using the naturalists as landmarks.
When she reaches Nigel, he backs himself into safe territory, then helps her to her feet. Amy holds her arm as we walk quickly back to the ship, as if Kate might take off running again.
In the mudroom, Glenn is waiting.
He fixes his eyes on Kate, with an expression that reminds me of the way he’d looked at Keller that day last season, after our disastrous onboard lecture.
“The safety of the passengers on this ship is my first priority,” Glenn says.
“I know—” Kate begins.
“I don’t believe you do, Ms. Archer,” Glenn says. “Your actions today have put yourself and our crew in danger. And I don’t need to remind you of the actions of your husband on Deception Island.”
Kate’s looking downward, and Glenn continues. “Five years ago, a woman who reminds me a lot of you decided she wanted a close-up of a seal sleeping on the fast ice. She walked past the flags, and two crew members went after her. One fell through the ice and nearly drowned. Is this something you want on your conscience?”
Kate raises her head to meet his unsparing gaze. She shakes her head.
“You’ve risked the lives not only of the crew but of every passenger on this vessel,” Glenn tells her. “Ice conditions down here can change in minutes, and our captain needs to be ready to respond. He can’t be waiting on rogue passengers who are running around on the ice.”
“I understand.”
“Good,” Glenn says. “Because if you step out of line once more, I’m turning this ship around and taking you back to Argentina. You can be sure your fellow passengers won’t be pleased with the change in itinerary.”
Kate nods and stares down at her feet. Glenn gives her a withering glare before he walks out, his footsteps echoing back from the passageway.
Kate turns to me, her face flushed deep red, and I can tell she is the sort of person who’s never gotten herself into trouble, until now. I also know that Glenn dramatized his story; the crew member had only sprained a wrist.
“He means business,” I say to Kate. “Be good, okay? You and Richard both.”
She nods again and turns to go. I watch the way she moves—the same way I do these days, protective of the middle of her body. It’s only been a few days since everything’s changed, since I thought I could avoid the messes of being human, of being a woman, by immersing myself in work.
I press the fingers of my right hand into my left, feeling around for my ring, hidden under my glove. I’d never told Keller the story of the bird it had belonged to, and suddenly I’m glad. So much about the penguins—about his own past—is about loss, and maybe it’s better that we don’t think about the precariousness of life, the way a piece of metal can be wrapped around a living being in one moment, removed from a body in the next.
FIFTEEN YEARS BEFORE SHIPWRECK
Punta Tombo, Argentina
It amazes me how quickly my first week in Punta Tombo has turned into a month. It’s already mid-November, springtime in Argentina, and in three weeks I’ll travel home to complete the third year of my Ph.D. program in conservation biology.